Dedication To My Stupid Brother, Max

Today is my little brother’s 20th birthday! Since he is away from home, I thought I would take up space on my blog to bash the crap out of him! 😀

(kidding.)

…or am I?

This is actually going to be a really disgusting post about how Maxwell is my favorite sibling. Don’t believe me? Take a look at this horror show:

15june03-royhome-mitzi-max.jpg

 

Since we were very small (at least, I was), Max and I have done practically everything together. Not because we had so much in common and enjoyed each other’s company, but because Max would do whatever I said. If I wanted to play dolls, he would play with me, as long as it involved crashing them together in epic battles. Max was one of the many catalysts that sparked my creativity from a young age. The imaginary games we played together were complex and war-centric. The stuffed bears were at war with the stuffed tigers. The rag dolls were at war with the Barbies. Everything had a name, a family tree, and a purpose for being in our game. As an extremely organized person, I would write these names down in a notebook so we could keep track of all our characters. We organized our Hot Wheels cars into families and tribes (typically based on shape and color). We could play for hours and hours and pick up right where we left off the next day.

23Oct05-Max & Mitzi

In the middle grade, I had already fully crafted my first epic story, Uetrod, about an alien boy with golden eyes. I wrote battle scenes on the computer and printed them out as a “script” that we would act out on the trampoline. Max insisted on being the villain (and beasts), of course, and our little sister, Melanie, often played the side characters who were confined to the background, kidnapped, or killed, since she was small and easy to throw around.

We developed a shared taste in the epic music that I still listen to today, which helped inspire me for future scenes. We would listen to song after song and pretend to fight like the characters in my story. Max helped me conceptualize the scenes before writing them. He also possesses the unique ability to mimic voices of characters in movies and TV, which has been an endless source of entertainment for me.

When I created languages for my story, I taught Max some of the vocabulary, including how to count to ten. Doing this helped me memorize the fake words. Looking back, I still wonder why he played along.

Mitzi and Max on laptop 2003

Today, I know that I would not be as motivated to write if it wasn’t for Maxwell’s obedient, acquiescent nature. The other qualities that make him my favorite sibling include his imagination, his thick skin, his kindness, and sense of humor. Thanks for playing, Max. I’m dedicating this dumb post, and my next book, Gray Haze, to you. 😉

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